Live With It
by Llovvess-sama88
Summary: Friendships are more often than not based on tolerance. This same rule applies to the strange trio in the W Academy, Alfred, Arthur and Francis. But when Arthur loses his patience to Francis and his teasing, what is the Frenchman to do? A story of friendship and acceptance of three unlikely comrades. R&R!


**_A/N: This a repost of the fic I wrote for a contest on dA, since I haven't started writing anything yet (School, y'see...). So yeah. Hope you enjoy this anyway. Picture made by my dear friend, also for the contest. :)_**

_Live with it._

_It's a simple, three-word sentence directed to people who endlessly complain about problems. _

_Such people just can't get one fact into their head: Life is not perfect, and it never will be._

_Why is it so hard to just accept this one truth and get on with life?_

_We ask ourselves again and again._

_And again and again, we refuse to answer ourselves._

World Academy W.

As the name suggests, this prestigious international school was a bit different from any other ordinary academy. You could already tell as you passed through the mighty steel gates and the maze of tall corral fences, and even more so once you've entered through the thick wooden double doors into the spacious, museum-like lobby that sported objects from each and every country on the map.

The students were no less exotic than the campus. Young men and women from all four corners of the globe would come to this academy, regardless of nationality, race, and color. Here they could meet, share cultures, and forge friendships. This was a school that devoted her existence to the world itself.

"Alfred, wake up! We're going to be late for classes!"

"Follow the giant burger... We heroes can't let it get away... Hahahaha..."

"_Mon dieu_, I do not think he is getting up."

And a school that held the strangest friendship of all.

"Probably trapped in dreamland yet again. The last time that happened, we needed to borrow Yao's gong to wake him up. That wanker, what are we supposed to do now?"

"Maybe you could try sitting on him, _Arteur."_

"And how the bloody hell will that help? Such a balderdash idea...Wait- Francis, put me down!" "_Ohonhonhon_..."

"PUT ME DOWN, YOU FROG!"

XOXOXOXO

"So dude, you're saying you actually sat on me to wake me up?" Alfred Jones, the tall American with bright blue eyes asked, now more awake than his other two companions.

"It wasn't my idea!" Arthur Kirkland, the British Student Council President with dirty blond hair and emerald-green eyes, answered. "Francis Bonnefoy forced me to do it!"

He pointed to the Frenchman whose shoulder-length golden hair floated in the light breeze. "_Ohonhonhon_... I only did it because I knew you couldn't bear to see your dear companion in bed." He replied, gesturing his hands as he did so.

" Hahahaha! I know you can't go to class without the hero, Artie!" Alfred grinned, patting Arthur on the shoulder.

"Don't jump to such conclusions, you wankers," The Brit grumbled, looking away. "I was just doing my duty as President, no more, no less."

If anyone could stand out in this academy, no doubt it was this strange trio. Despite their clashing personalities, they came like a package deal. Alfred's dense personality, Arthur's forked tongue, and Francis's passion seemed to fit perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle. No matter how many times they fight, argue or blackmail each other (Arthur mainly being the victim), they seem to dismiss the entire thing, say, 10 seconds after it happened.

Some people say it's true friendship, some say it's a miracle.

And some say it won't last.

So like, what's the first class for the hero today?" Alfred asked.

"Baking..." Arthur scowled.

Now, he didn't hate the subject; he actually found it interesting in a way. It was just that, well... He couldn't cook or bake anything without it turning into a pile of black powder.

"_Bonjour Mademoiselle_," he then heard Francis greet a pretty girl walking down the hallway. She giggled as he kissed her hand. "There he goes again," the Brit thought, as Francis gave the girl a final wave before walking back to Arthur.

"You really cannot control yourself, can you?"

"It's not about controlling myself, it's about spreading _l'amour_ around."

"Also known as flirting."

"There is no need to be jealous of my charms, Arteur." Francis smiled triumphantly, poking Arthur on the shoulder.

"Why should I be jealous?" Arthur huffed. "Those worthless talents mean nothing to me. I prefer a gentleman's approach."

"But just look, even Alfred is greeting people. So why shouldn't you?"

Arthur turned, and indeed, Alfred was talking to another group in the hallway. Arthur felt a twinge of jealousy. Deep down, he knew Francis was correct; he could never approach people that way. The frog didn't have to make it so obvious, though.

"I-I have a right to freedom of choice. I can choose not to do it if I don't want to."

"Are they arguing?" one member of the group asked Alfred, pointing over to his two friends.

"Artie and Francis? Nah, they don't really fight. They just, you know, pretend to mess up each other's heads." Alfred answered coolly.

"Alfred, hurry up! We're already here." Arthur motioned to the door of the Kitchen Laboratory.

"Yeah, got it! See ya later dudes!" He waved before running over to join Arthur.

Unfortunately, he was running a bit too fast and couldn't stop himself, and ended up colliding into Arthur as they fell onto the front door and into the room.

"Pfft. Whoops, sorry dude." Alfred laughed.

"Sorry indeed." Arthur replied sarcastically.

The Kitchen looked as if it were reserved for professional chefs. The finest ingredients were laid down in an organized manner on the granite kitchen tables. The stainless steel utensils looked as if they were sparkling diamonds, and the marble floor was as white as white could be. Even better yet, the mentor for today's class was absent, leaving the students to do their work without someone breathing down their necks.

Then Arthur realized something. Where was Francis? He got up to his feet and looked around. A rather large crowd was gathering around a certain area of the room.

"After adding the eggs, mix the batter until smooth..." Francis mumbled, stirring the batter with graceful movements. The people watching him oohed and ahhed at his finesse in baking.

Arthur sighed. That was another reason he didn't enjoy the subject. Every time he made an attempt to bake his scones, Francis would always classify it as a failure and go on and on saying how his French _soufflés_ were so much better.

Well not today, Arthur proclaimed to himself. This would be the day he'd prove to Francis that Arthur Kirkland had style and finesse as well.

"A bit of space please," Francis politely motioned the crowd to move back. As they did so, he caught sight of Arthur forcibly thrashing his lumpy batter around the bowl.

"_Excusez-moi, _I need to attend to something." He walked to Arthur's side. "I believe that you should not be putting the eggshells in the batter."

"Shush, frog. I'm concentrating." Arthur shot back, not taking his eyes off the batter. Francis then gently grabbed Arthur's wrists.

"Here, I insist that I help you."

"No, I said I am fine. Really, go back to your own business."

"I won't be taking no for an answer," Francis tightened his grip. "You really need me to-"

"NO! LET GO OF ME!"

Arthur's yell caught the attention if most of the students, who dropped what they were doing and turned to see what exactly was going on.

Arthur's face was slowly turning red. "I said so, loud and clear, didn't I? I don't need your help. I don't want your help. And I _definitely_ don't want you constantly criticizing the way I live my life!"

Before Francis could answer, Arthur turned his back to him and said, "If you'll excuse me, I'll be going to the nurse's office now. I don't feel very well at the moment," before walking out of the room, leaving everyone there in total silence.

"Hey dude, wait up!" Alfred yelled, getting ready to chase after his British friend. He looked at Francis, who merely shook his head. "I do not think chasing him now is the best thing to do. Give him time to think things over."

Alfred frowned, but he knew the Frenchman was right.

It took a few minutes before the atmosphere of the room turned back to normal, as everyone's focus went from the incident back to their own work. There were still a few lingering murmurs here and there, however, mainly about the possible results of Arthur's sudden outbursts. It seemed as if people were starting to believe that this "miracle friendship" was starting to break apart.

"But it's not," Alfred thought as he placed his batter in the oven. "And as the hero, I'm gonna make sure of that," he promised himself. He looked over the table and saw that Francis had finished baking.

"Oh, Francis. Do you mind if I sample one of your desserts?"

"Hm? Sure, go ahead."

"... Oh? That's weird, your desserts are usually creamy and sweet. How come today they have a bitter taste?"

XOXOXOXO

"You seem fine, I don't think there's anything wrong other than too much stress. I say you take it easy for a while, I think your Student Council duties are putting too much pressure on you." The school nurse advised.

"I suppose so," Arthur replied, concealing the true story. "Thank you for your time, though."

"You're very welcome." The nurse smiled.

Arthur felt a wave of envy flow through him. Francis, Alfred, everyone around him...

Why was it most people could be so friendly all the time?

And why couldn't he be one of those people?

XOXOXOXO

"So exactly why are you bringing me to a fast food chain?"

Arthur saw the streets ahead of him slowly crowding up with people. He lay limp, knowing that no matter how much he fought, he couldn't escape America's grasp.

"Dude, we totally need to chill together! You've been doing like, way too much paperwork lately. I haven't had time to see you!" Alfred laughed.

Arthur scowled. He had been purposely keeping himself busy to isolate himself from his friends. He didn't want to get into the subject anymore, though. "Why hamburgers again? We always eat hamburgers when you invite me out somewhere. Why can't we have some of my food for a change?" He decided to ask instead.

"Sorry dude, no stomach pump."

Arthur grumbled as they entered the restaurant. Alfred sat down on a cushioned sofa and waved to a waitress. "Usual!" he yelled. The waitress gave a thumbs-up sign, and walked off to the kitchen.

Arthur looked around at the people eating. All of them were biting into giant hamburgers with giant patties along with lettuce, tomato, pickles, everything.

"Why do people eat this unhealthy lard on a regular basis?" he asked.

"Dude, don't diss burgers in a burger place. That ain't a good idea." Alfred whispered, the giant grin still plastered on his face. Just then, the waitress came with two large burgers. "Just enjoy the food, Artie. We don't poison you here."

"Yes you do, with cholesterol." Arthur thought to himself.

Nevertheless, the picked up the burger, took a bite, and chewed. He figured that he would need to tolerate it anyway. There was no point in refusing Alfred's invitations, because he was so bloody straightforward. Plus the fact that it was ungentlemanly to decline.

No, it had nothing to do with sympathy or affection or anything like that.

Not at all.

XOXOXOXO

As the last layer of paint was added to the canvas, Francis paused for a few seconds to admire the beauty of his latest masterpiece before setting it on a desk to dry. He wiped his forehead, and sat down, tired but triumphantly, on the couch, listening to the soothing classical music that filled the room, calming him down.

Ah, the beauty of art, the art of beauty.

As he relaxed himself, basking in the serenity of his house, he reflected on the (tragic) event that happened a few days ago, when a certain Englishman decided to humiliate (himself) by refusing (the gorgeous) "yours truly", Francis Bonnefoy, and his help. Such a shame, a beautiful friendship wilting. Why does everyone seem to forget about this beautiful perfection that graced them with his presence every day?

He also remembered how on the rare occasions when the said Englishman came to his house and requested (or demanded) that the Frenchman make him tea, and how one time, just as an experiment, placed a mild poison in the tea and how the Brit, after drinking it, simply replied, "Not bad for a frog, but it still needs much work in order to brush my standards." Then he continued sipping the tea, while Francis tried to control himself from laughing and staring from shock.

_Arteur_ Kirkland, a being of no finesse, no class whatsoever.

Sometimes he wondered where in the world he found this person.

Suddenly...

"Whoops! Sorry dude!" Alfred yelled from outside as a hamburger flew through the window and landed... On Francis's painting.

"Uh, do you mind if I could get my burger back?"

And there went the serenity of the house.

The next day, when the garbage truck came to collect the trash, one of the garbage collectors noticed a canvas stick out of the garbage can. He picked it up, and despite the large sauce stain in the center, it was a beautifully made, detailed painting of... Two people arguing?

And what was it with that third person who looked as if he was completely oblivious to what was going on?

XOXOXOXO

_As we all know, each year the W Academy holds something similar to a World's Fair, wherein a carnival is put up in the central grounds of the campus with all corresponding attractions, each exhibit hosted by a representative of the country of the attraction's origin. _

_However, this year I, the President of the Student Council, will be enforcing a restraining order placed on some representatives due to last year's problems such as a mass production of pasta, and a number of complaints given about stripping in public, not to mention the confiscation of the Hungarian-Japanese Yaoi collection that was reported to have eternally traumatized the lives of many minors. _

_Thus, we would like to prevent such actions in order to ensure safety for everyone who attends this festival, thank you. _

_- Arthur Kirkland. _

_P.S. Although there has been a ban on alcohol, I highly suggest you avoid drinking bottles labeled "Russian water". _

"Yo dude!" Alfred barged into Arthur's office, slamming his hands on the table. "I wanna go ride the roller coaster!"

"Alright, but what does that have to do with me?" Arthur asked, fumbling through a bunch of papers.

"Well, ya see," Alfred explained, "I can't exactly find Matt anywhere, and it's no fun riding in a roller coaster without bringing someone along, so you gotta go with me!"

"And well, _you_ see that I'm clearly busy." Arthur answered.

"But that's the whole point! You gotta take a break sometimes!" Alfred insisted, as he grabbed Arthur's sleeve and pulled him towards the giant attraction.

Along the way, however, he was sure he saw what looked like Matthew just by the corner.

Wait, who?

"This is obviously a waste of time," Arthur complained as the roller coaster came into view. Alfred happily ignored him, veering him away from the long line into the singles line, which was shorter. Arthur watched as the roller coaster carts zoomed across the tracks and breakneck speed. The people riding it were waving their hands in the air and screaming their lungs out.

He suddenly felt a fresh wave of fear. He never admitted it, but in his whole life, he hasn't gotten a chance to try riding a roller coaster. And he had absolutely NO idea of what to expect. Would it be scary? Thrilling? Fun? Arthur could feel his hands grow cold.

"Yo, Artie! There are seats for the two of us on this ride! C'mon, let's go!"

The Brit started having even more second thoughts. "Alfred, I really believe I need to attend to my Student Council duties now..."

"Don't worry, dude! It'll only take a few minutes!" Alfred assured, as he practically jumped in one of the carts and yelled to Arthur, "You're seat's next to the dude behind me!"

Reluctantly, Arthur climbed into the cart. Then he saw who was seated beside him.

"What are you doing here, you bloody frog? Shouldn't you be busy?"

"Oh, it turned out there was a strike at my exhibit, and so I thought to myself, why not come here for a short break?" Francis explained coolly. Arthur scowled, and silently reminded himself to put a restraining order on striking as well.

"And how about you, _ Monsieur _Student Council President? Shouldn't you be busy?"

"It was Alfred who-" Arthur's remark was cut short as the cart started to move.

Francis took a close look at Arthur, who was trying his best not to make it obvious (though it was obvious that it was obvious) that he was nervous. Taking advantage of the situation (as what Francis always does), he whispered, "Don't worry, _mon ami_, if you ever feel scared, you could always hold on to me..."

"SHUT UP, YOU GIT! Don't think I've forgiven you quite yet!"

"_Ohonhonhon..."_

Arthur took his eyes off Francis for one moment to check the surroundings. He noticed that the cart was already on top of the hill. The view was amazing, actually. You could see the entire carnival at this height; people bustling around, looking at the exhibitions. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn't that bad.

Then the carts went _down_ the hill.

It felt like the carts were flying along the tracks at lightning speed, almost as if an invisible force was pulled up and down, dragging the poor victims (in Arthur's opinion) into a force field of doom. His insides squirmed as he held an iron grip on the handle ,fearing the cart would suddenly make a sharp stop and throw everyone off.

After that ordeal, all the Brit could remember is trying to keep himself from falling as he secured his feet on the solid ground.

"Dude!" he heard Alfred's voice from a distance away. "Do you wanna see the pictures?"

There was a long pause.

"Hey dude, you okay? Uh, dude? You look kinda sick."

Arthur stared at him, too queasy to do anything more than grabbing the picture and walk away, suppressing his need to vomit.

XOXOXOXO

The day was coming to a close as the sun sank lower and lower into the ground. The crowd of people was slowly thinning out, and Arthur knew this meant a less chance of him running into Alfred or Francis. He took a few glances here and there, then he kept moving, quickening his pace as he walked.

"Another one? We were just about to close for the night. Well, I guess one more round won't hurt. Climb in, sonny."

Arthur shrugged as he got on the front cart of the roller coaster. He tried his best to swallow his rising anxiety as he secured the guard on. He thought to himself that he would need practice in case Alfred decides to do the same thing again next year. As he felt the cart rise, he remembered the terrifying image he saw on the picture he got from Alfred and made a silent promise.

He would never, EVER, hold Francis in such a way ever again.

XOXOXOXO

Almost as if the school wanted to torture the Student Council with things to do, the midterm practical exam always came after the carnival. Arthur sighed, sipping down some tea as he looked over the mountain of paperwork on his desk. Inside a thick folder, instructions for the exam were written, back to back, on each piece of paper, for Arthur to interpret and simplify. So far, all he got was that this year's exam would be a project done in groups of three, and groups will be self-chosen by the students.

"So the rubrics for the grading system... 35% creativity and resourcefulness, 20% reflection of culture, 15% reflection of the theme... Hold up, there's a theme? I must have missed that somewhere..." Arthur searched through the mess of papers. He wondered exactly what kind of activity this would be. He wasn't exactly good with a group, after all.

Maybe except that one time...

XOXOXOXO

"Hey dude! Over here Artie! I wanna show you something!" Alfred said enthusiastically, waving his arm in the air and dragging Arthur (which seemed to be the case ever since the baking incident) to a big poster on the bulletin board near the stairs.

"Yes, I know. I was the one who retyped the rules. What about the project?" Arthur asked.

"We can choose our own partners, so dude, we gotta be partners again like that time before-"

"You mean, _that _time?"

"Yeah! We're gonna totally make an awesome project, so we have to work together, right?"

"...No giant heroes, if that's what you're proposing."

"Awwww..." Alfred frowned for a short while, but then grinned and said, "Well, at least the three of us will be together on this!"

"And about that," Arthur muttered, his voice dropping to almost a whisper, "I don't think I've fixed the whole scenario with me and Francis quite yet, and I'm not sure if we can actually work as a group if the two of us start arguing. Maybe it's not the best thing if we were to be groupmates..."

"Too late dude, I already signed us up."

"You did WHAT?!"

"What's going on?" Francis asked as he approached the duo, Arthur trying his best to somehow strangle Alfred. "A lovers' quarrel?"

"...This wanker here signed us up as a group for the midterm project!" Arthur shouted, pointing a finger at the dazed American. He then moved his arm and pointed at Francis. "And I'm not willing to work with you."

"Now really, there's no need to be shy. Of course you'd be around someone as fabulous as me, but it's perfectly understandable." the Frenchman waved his hand in the air.

"You do realize it's only you who thinks you're fabulous." Arthur replied in an insulting manner. "In truth, I bet a lot of people are turned off by you."

"Do you need me to prove it?" Francis asked, now slightly annoyed, as he moved closer to Arthur and grabbed his arms.

"Let go of me this instant!" the Brit yelled, flailing around and trying to get out of Francis's grasp.

"Hey, dudes! People are staring..." Alfred tried to intervene by stepping into the fight... But he was then slammed by the combined force of Arthur and Francis. He lost his balance, and ended up falling down the stairs.

CRASH!

XOXOXOXO

"Thankfully, there's not much to worry about, just a sprained ankle." The nurse assured, tying a bandage around America's left foot. "How many times have I told you to be careful, especially near staircases." She reprimanded him.

"Sorry 'bout that, I was just being the hero and all..."

Arthur peeked into the clinic, not wanting to go inside. He could feel a twinge of guilt inside of him. He had lost his temper, broken his gentleman's pact, and worst of all, hurt a comrade. How shameful, and he dared call himself Student Council President! He took a final glance at Alfred, then turned and left.

"Hey, dude!" Alfred called, catching sight of him. No answer.

Trying to keep his pride in, he walked slowly across the hallway, searching for an empty classroom where he could think without being disturbed, since it was free period anyway. Soon enough, he entered the Music Room. It was a beautiful room, with fine instruments and detailed paintings on the walls. One of Arthur's favorite rooms actually, if he were to choose. However, today it looked bleak and dreary, though the Brit wasn't sure whether or not it was just his emotions.

After taking a look around to make sure there really was no one there, Arthur carefully picked up a guitar. Playing the guitar was a secret passion of his, one that most people didn't know about. And playing it often lifted his spirits, and so he thought he would one song wouldn't hurt. He sat down, put the guitar on his lap, and began to play.

Little did he know that as he played, a certain Frenchman heard and followed the music.

Francis peeked into the Music Room and saw Arthur playing his heart out, mouthing the words of a song that Francis couldn't recognize. On the other hand, he had to admit that Arthur was good with the guitar, and he did appreciate good music. So he simply stood by the doorway, watching as Arthur continued his song, up until the end.

When he saw the Englishman put the guitar back in its proper place, he decided to make his move.

"_Arteur_?"

Arthur turned around as Francis walked in.

"Something you want, frog?" He said in a composed, but heavy voice.

"Just wanted to tell you that your guitar playing skills are quite proficient." Francis answered.

"Until you'll be reporting me for borrowing an instrument without permission."

"_Moi_? Reporting a maker producer of perfectly fine music due to a simple infraction of the rules?"

"Good point, you do infract a lot of rules yourself. No really, why did you come here?" Arthur insisted.

"I was telling the truth, I promise." Francis responded. "I didn't know it was you until I came in." However," he added, "I do think it is time to settle this little quarrel if we're to get this project done."

Arthur nodded. "I suppose so." He sat down on the wooden floor, and Francis followed suit.

"Francis, does this whole scenario feel like a deja vu of something?"

"If you are talking about _that_ time, then yes."

"That time when the three of us became friends."

_Flashback:_

_ "A group project," Arthur mumbled. "I strongly dislike group projects, especially when you're assigned to partners who are lazy and don't know how to work. He looked at his number, 22. His eyes began scanning the bulletin board in front of him to find the names of his partners. _

_As he searched, he heard a group of people whispering behind him. He didn't manage to hear the entire conversation, but caught a few phrases like "not a real gentleman", "so sarcastic", and "can't make friends", before being followed by a sharp "he might hear you!" Arthur simply rolled his eyes at the comments. _

_It was another reason he strongly disliked group projects. _

_At last, he found group 22. "Francis Bonnefoy, Alfred Jones." He read out loud. Two names he had never heard of. Guessing from the last names, the first was French (oh great, a frog) and the second was American._

_ Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him say, "Did you just say my name?" _

_Arthur turned around to stand face to face with a Frenchman with long blonde hair and a stubble. "If you are Francis Bonnefoy, then I suppose so." _

_"Yes, of course I am him! Can you not see this gorgeous subject matches perfectly with this gorgeous name?" _

_"...No." _

_A chorus of laughter rang out. Arthur looked around, and everyone had turned to look at them- him and the frog named Francis. "This is embarrassing," he thought. _

_Then he heard someone say, "Hey, Al! I think we've found your partners. I think you need some luck with them though." _

_Then, faster than lightning, a well-built, bright blue-eyed American had his hands on their shoulders. "Yo, 'sup dudes? So you guys are my partners for the project, huh?" _

_Arthur simply nodded, slightly stunned. _

_"Nice meeting you guys! I'm the hero, Alfred Jones."_

_"Y-yes, I'm Arthur Kirkland. This is-" _

_"Francis Bonnefoy." _

_"Yeah, got it. So, I got this super-cool idea for the project. I think that we should genetically engineer a huge hero and make him protect the earth! What do you think, guys? Awesome, huh? Maybe we should even eat together for lunch and talk about it more! Okay, dudes?" _

_Yes, Arthur really, REALLY strongly disliked group projects. _

_XOXOXOXO_

_Two days have passed since the day Arthur met his two "partners" and he had to say, things weren't going well. All Alfred talked about was a preposterous idea of a giant hero, and Francis kept going on and on about how gorgeous he was. There went the idea of getting a high grade to pull up the average. _

_So here he was, sitting on one of the cafeteria tables with the two idiots on both sides of him. _

_"Now about the project, I think we need to discuss it a bit more seriously-" _

_"Hey Artie, you're not seriously gonna eat this stuff are you?" Alfred asked. _

_"Of course I'm going to eat this! These fish and chips are very dear to my homeland!" Arthur told him. "And don't call me Artie." Sinking back into his seat, he sighed. There was no way he could ever work with these two. _

_He looked around the place and saw people mouthing, "they won't be able to do anything" and thought to himself, "Yes, maybe it's true, maybe I won't be able to make a significant project," he looked at Alfred, then he looked at Francis. "But then, no pain, no gain." _

_Arthur then slammed both of his hands on the table, catching the attention of his two partners. "Now I know that I make a horrible leader and I'm not exactly the best project maker myself, but I need both of you to cooperate with me if we want to make this worthwhile. No stupid ideas, and I want the best work from the two of you." He paused to take a short breath and continued. "I'm tired of people laughing at our group because we don't get along, so I- no, WE are going to shove it in their bloody faces that we can do something. I know we argue a lot, but I'm going to do my best to tolerate you, so if ever you want to complain about something, just LIVE WITH IT." _

_The Brit sat back on his chair and looked at his partners. There was a silence. Then..._

_"... I admire your passion, Arteur. When do we start?" _

_"Aw, so you don't like my idea?" _

_XOXOXOXO_

_The next two weeks were hectic and filled with chaos. One would think after that (self-proclaimed) beautiful speech, Alfred and Francis would cooperate. No... Arthur went through day by day yelling at the two of them, trying to give them instructions on what to do. Who knows how many hairs on his head had turned white each time he argued with the Frenchman, or how many times his voice grew hoarse shouting at the American. He would definitely not want to go through those two weeks again. _

_But for some reason, Arthur had developed a strange liking towards his two partners. It seemed that through all that chaos, he had found two new people who actually understood him, and tolerated him, without spreading insults behind his back. He felt if he was, in a way, accepted for who he is, a cynical, sarcastic, horrible cook who couldn't make friends. _

_In which he had contradicted his last description, because he supposed, he did make friends. _

_The strangest friends of all. _

_And now it was the moment of truth for these strange friends. _

_"98." Alfred read, tiptoeing as he read the number written on that infamous bulletin board. "We got a 98 out of 100, dudes." _

_Arthur's eyes grew wide. No way there were expecting such a high score. "We got a bloody 98, how is that possible?" Suddenly, a rare grin surfaced on the Brit's face. He looked at Francis, who gave him a look that said, "Go for it." _

_Arthur took a deep breath. Then he jumped up on a chair and started talking in a loud voice. _

_"How does it feel to be beaten, you fools! We got a 98, and I bet you're on the bottom of the list! That's what you get for testing the underdogs, that's right! I hope you've learned your lesson! The score you got is definitely what you deserve, so don't complain! Live with it!" He pointed to all those who insulted him, a silly but triumphant grin on his face. _

_"Dude, you're making a scene!" Alfred laughed, putting his arm over Arthur. He simply smiled at him and replied, "I know. And I love it." _

_*End of Flashback* _

" 'Live with it'. Such a useful quote back then wasn't it?" Francis smirked.

"I suppose, I did have fun making those fools look bad." Arthur agreed.

"Actually, when I think about it, that quote applies to us as well," Francis said, "Think about it, we argue a lot, don't we, _Arteur?_"

"Point taken."

"So back then, we "lived with it" whenever we had a fight. We understood that there will never be a time where we will perfectly agree with each other, because we are too different. And we accepted it, and became friends anyway."

Arthur nodded. "I suppose that faded away over the years. The friction between us was so great we forgot to respect this fact." he let out a small sigh. "I apologize for my very unrefined manner. I got jealous of the way you could talk to others so easily."

"It's alright, I understand. I was also not spreading love when I kept rubbing your flaws in your face. You are quite talented, I have to admit, just simply not in my aspects." Francis added.

Arthur gave a soft smiled, relieved that the whole issue had been lifted off his shoulders.

"And I understand you aren't quite as fabulous as I am."

"W-why you... YOU BLOODY FROG!"

"Hold on, before anything..." Francis put his hands up in the air before Arthur had the chance to grab him. "Let's make another pact. When we first met, we promised that we wouldn't complain about each other, and we'd live with it, _non_? So let's make another promise." he held out his hand. "I, the gorgeous Francis Bonnefoy, promise to "live with" _Arteur _ Kirkland's flaws and not get mad due to his actions, because that's how he is, and vice versa."

Arthur took out his hand and shook it. "Alright, we promised."

"_Bon_!" Francis smiled. "Now I can tell the entire school that you and I exchanged vows!"

"W-wha... Wait a minute, you... You wanker!"

"Sorry, _Arteur_. Live with it! _Ohonhonhon_!

XOXOXOXO

"So how's the ankle, Alfred?"

"Don't worry, it's good. I am the hero after all."

"That's good to here. Your British lover was so worried about you, weren't you,_ Arteur_? Think of dear Alfred all the time.

"I-I never said that! Whatever gave you the idea?"

Alfred grinned, seeing his two buddies finally getting together. Well, of course they would get back together, because he was the hero (even though he didn't do anything), after all. "So, how about we talk about that project. I got a great idea we could use-"

"No giant heroes, Alfred." Arthur and Francis said in unison.

"Sheesh, guys! I was gonna say giant burger!"

And so the three strange friends continued their strange friendship once more.

And what happened to those who were absolutely sure the friendship would end?

Well they would just have to live with it.

_End._

_**So yeah, that's the story. It's actually slightly based on a real life experience, with me as America. So, if you liked, reviews are highly encouraged-no, wanted-no, DEMANDED! (disregard last phrase). Just say what you think about the story, I'd really appreciate it. Hope you enjoyed! ~Llovvess**_


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